


Monmouth

by NightOfTheLand



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Battle of Monmouth aftermath, Graphic Description, hinted at relationships, nothing for certain, oblivious Ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 01:45:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7247203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightOfTheLand/pseuds/NightOfTheLand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Ben could hear was the ringing in his ears. Beyond that the muffled shouts of orders, and screams of dying men. He shook his head sharply to try to clear the noise from his ears, the cannon blasts and musket fire still bouncing around in his skull.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monmouth

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is my first adventure into this fandom. Please let me know if the characterizations are off, or anything like that. I chose to include Laurens because I feel like he and Ben would have an interesting friendship. Just a little snippet of something I came up with. There might be more, but who knows.

All Ben could hear was the ringing in his ears. Beyond that the muffled shouts of orders, and screams of dying men. The stretch of heat and blood filled his nose. His poor mare panted under him, her head drooping from exhaustion. The field was still in chaos even as the Continentals watched the British retreat, shouts filling the air as many militiamen made rude gestures at the retreating soldiers’ backs. He shook his head sharply to try to clear the noise from his ears, the cannon blasts and musket fire still bouncing around in his skull. 

“Major!” He heard the shout through a fog, and turned his head to see a grinning Lieutenant Colonel Laurens limping his way. The man was covered head to toe in mud and gore, bright red blood streamed down the side of his face from an open wound, but other than that he seemed hale. And he was grinning at Ben like a demon from Renaissance painting. 

“Colonel,” Ben greeted the man, a slight nod and a look that was more grimace than smile. He could feel the exhaustion seeping into his bones now, his sword heavy in his hand, pistol still smoking slightly from its last discharge, hot where it lay wedged between his thigh and the pommel of the saddle. 

“I see you managed to stay on your ride this time, Major!” Laurens was laughing, something dangerous flashing in his wild green eyes as he swept brown hair from his face.

Ben felt a flush that had nothing to do with the heat creep up his neck. It seemed he would never be free of the happenings before Trenton. It also seemed that the General’s aides-de-camp were more than content to continue teasing him about it. “I see you did not,” Ben quipped back, racking the other man with a critical eye. 

Laurens laughed again, shaking his head wildly, hair flying from its already mused queue, now hanging free and greasy around his dirty face. “Poor beast, shot in the first volley. Terrible luck I seem to have,” he replied, still grinning that madman’s grin at Ben, something else twinkling in his eye as he said, “Look lively now, Tallmadge, your keeper is coming to check up on you!” 

Blue eyes followed where Laurens was looking and Ben couldn't help the flush that deepened on his face. Caleb was picking his way across the field, very obviously fixated on getting to him. 

“It's all in good fun, Major, I assure you,” Laurens spoke again, some of his frantic energy leaving him, “I fear I must go find my own keeper, before he worries himself into a fit,” at that Ben couldn't help but chuckle along with Laurens. He had not doubt that if given the chance Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton would indeed work himself into a fit worrying over Laurens. The two men were nigh inseparable, best of friends. 

“Colonel,” Ben inclined his head, acknowledging the man as Laurens gave a half hearted two finger salute before trudging off in the direction of the Continentals’s camp. 

With a tired sigh and wince, Ben dismounted, boots slipping slightly on the blood slick ground. His ears were still ringing, but he could now more clearly hear the sounds around him. The smell of heat had given way to the stench of death and gore and he felt his stomach roll. He patted the side of his mare’s neck, scratching her gently between the ears, rubbing his fingers through her neatly trimmed mane. She huffed at him as if to say ‘can we get some rest now? And maybe some water and an apple?’ 

“I know, I know, you're hot. I am too. We'll find a cool stream after this is over, I promise,” Ben whispered to the horse and she huffed again. Ben laughed, “Yes, yes, and maybe an apple, if I can find one.” 

Caleb have a hearty shout when he came within speaking distance, “Benny-boy!” 

The smile that turned up Ben’s lips could not be helped. “Caleb,” he greeted the man, who pulled him into a tight embrace. Ben wrinkled his nose at the pull of already sore muscles, but returned the embrace one armed, still holding his bloodied sword. 

“We won, Ben! Routed them lobster bastards!” Caleb was grinning at him. Not the same battle drunk, madman grin that Laurens had worn earlier, but something close. 

His smile was almost infectious, Ben returning it easily if not a little tiredly. “That we did,” he replied, casting a critical eye over the still smoking field. In the distance he could see the faint shapes of the Tories marching towards New York City. Something twisted in his stomach that had nothing to do with the stench made worse by the heat. 

Caleb was still grinning at him, oblivious to Ben’s thoughts. He clapped him heartily on the back, free with his laughter, “C’mon, Tall-boy, you look like Sasha here dragged you through the field.” 

The mare tossed her head as if insulted by Caleb being so glib towards her master, and Ben couldn't help but chuckle as he scratched her between the ears again. “No, there was no dragging,” his chuckle turned teasing, “Though if you want to talk about dragging, find Laurens, he looks worse than I.” 

The resulting clap on his back made him almost pitch forward into the mud. Caleb might be smaller than him, but he was certainly strong. “Good ole Laurens, bet Ham’ll have a time with that!” Caleb chortled, wagging his eyebrows at Ben. 

“Now, they've no different a friendship than our own, Caleb,” Ben said lightly leading Sasha back up the field towards their lines, ignoring the tingle that went down his spine at his own words. 

Caleb followed after a moment, something Ben didn't recognize crossing his face beneath the blood and dirt. It was gone before he had a chance to say anything and they returned to the Continental lines together. 

*** 

“Foolish!” The voice was unmistakably Hamilton's and Ben paused in his trek towards his tent. Who on earth could Hamilton be scolding like that? 

“Needlessly reckless! Do you think if you die the war will be won? Riding out in front! I heard the volley and saw you go down,” Hamilton’s voice had gone low, right with an emotion that was no longer anger, “I thought I had just seen you die.” 

Something clicked in Ben’s mind. Hamilton must be talking to Laurens. It made sense. He had gotten a similar lesson from Caleb about being reckless and foolish and all too willing to die for the cause. It had been the first time they had had that talk, but from the sounds of it, it seemed this was just one of many of these conversations between Hamilton and Laurens. 

“Ham..” 

“No! No you don't get to explain yourself, John. Being brave and being damn near suicidal are two different things!” Hamilton’s voice had gone hard with anger again as he interrupted Laurens. 

Ben stood paralysed outside the tent as silence fell over the two. He was afraid if he moved they would know he had stopped to listen instead of going about his business. 

“I'm sorry,” Laurens’ voice was just loud enough for Ben to hear, but it was soft and Ben couldn't help but feel he was intruding on an intimate moment. 

“I know,” Hamilton sighed back in response. It seemed all fight had gone out of the normally fiery man, his tone flat, “Think about the people you’d leave behind, my Laurens, before you jump into the fray again, even if you spare no thought of yourself, think of us who would miss you, mourn you.” 

A lump rose in Ben’s throat at the plea in Hamilton’s voice. He was now truly certain he was intruding on something very, very private. 

“Alexander,” the rest of Laurens words were too soft for Ben to hear. 

A shout from the patrol announcing the time and that all was well made Ben jump and heart thudding in his chest he hurried back to his own tent. He recalled the look that had crossed Caleb's face when he had said their relationship was not different that Hamilton's and Laurens’ relationship. Now he thought he understood that brief look. But he still wasn't sure what it meant. Did it mean Caleb was glad of it, or did it mean he wanted what the other two had? Ben shook himself, and set about scrubbing his sword clean, the repetitive motion easing his mind. 

He had intruded on an intimate moment between the two aides-de-camp and while he wasn't sure exactly what he had just eavesdropped on, he knew he would never speak of it again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! If there are any grammar, spelling, etc. errors, please let me know!


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